Ray Bradbury 1920-Infinity
One of the first books I ever bought was Ray Bradbury's THE MARTIAN CHRONICLES. I think I had bought some STAR TREK books before that, but THE MARTIAN CHRONICLES was my first, well, -real- book. It was there that I think I first really fell in love with reading; when I first realized how beautiful language could be. I could say a lot about the the man and his books (though maybe the last sentence says all that needs to be said), and I think that it's already being done by others who are far better wordsmiths than I. But I will pass on a few thoughts.
I have a short piece by Bradbury titled "Tricks! Treats! Gangway!" that I pulled out of an old Reader's Digest. It is the recollection of Halloween in 1928 and if I ever get hold of a time machine, I want to go back to then and spend that wonderous holiday (before it became so commercialized)--provided that I too get to be eight year old-- with young Ray and his decidedly weird family.
He is the only one of the GRAND OLD MASTERS that I got to see and hear in person. He was getting some award or something at the Tulsa Library and was giving a speech that was free to attend. He was delightful, charming and very funny, not to mention the very definition of a gentleman. I took a couple of his books with me thinking that I might get them autographed. I'm not much of an autograph seeker, but hey, the guy who turned me onto reading? At least I'd have that to say to him. Anyway, I wasn't sure if there would be just a few people there or hundreds. Turned out to be the later, and I decided that it was unlikely he would be sitting there long enough to sign all of the books that people were lining up for, so I let it go. Sorta kicking myself for that now, of course.
The last few years I have made it a tradition to spend most of October reading creepy stuff. Bradbury usually gets represented by at least a few short stories. Last year I re-read SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES. It had been so long since I read it that I had forgotten just how scary that book is. Not nightmare inducing, just feakin' creepy. If you haven't read it and want a nice, fun little scare, give it a go.
I guess that's about it. It's just sad knowing that he won't be around anymore, but that sadness is countered by knowing how richer my life has become because of this man. I think I'll spend the rest of the evening revisiting some dead Martian cities.
I have a short piece by Bradbury titled "Tricks! Treats! Gangway!" that I pulled out of an old Reader's Digest. It is the recollection of Halloween in 1928 and if I ever get hold of a time machine, I want to go back to then and spend that wonderous holiday (before it became so commercialized)--provided that I too get to be eight year old-- with young Ray and his decidedly weird family.
He is the only one of the GRAND OLD MASTERS that I got to see and hear in person. He was getting some award or something at the Tulsa Library and was giving a speech that was free to attend. He was delightful, charming and very funny, not to mention the very definition of a gentleman. I took a couple of his books with me thinking that I might get them autographed. I'm not much of an autograph seeker, but hey, the guy who turned me onto reading? At least I'd have that to say to him. Anyway, I wasn't sure if there would be just a few people there or hundreds. Turned out to be the later, and I decided that it was unlikely he would be sitting there long enough to sign all of the books that people were lining up for, so I let it go. Sorta kicking myself for that now, of course.
The last few years I have made it a tradition to spend most of October reading creepy stuff. Bradbury usually gets represented by at least a few short stories. Last year I re-read SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES. It had been so long since I read it that I had forgotten just how scary that book is. Not nightmare inducing, just feakin' creepy. If you haven't read it and want a nice, fun little scare, give it a go.
I guess that's about it. It's just sad knowing that he won't be around anymore, but that sadness is countered by knowing how richer my life has become because of this man. I think I'll spend the rest of the evening revisiting some dead Martian cities.